


Snow Day

by aceflowerchild



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Agender Edward Burger, Blind Edward Burger, Max and Isaac are adopted brothers in this deal w it, Oh almost forgot, Other, Snow, Trans Maxwell Puckett, deaf Maxwell Puckett, isaac isn't in the first chapter but he'll be here don't worry, lbr when I'm writing everyone is trans, rated t for cursing, still spectral-verse tho, they're aged up a few years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22903525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceflowerchild/pseuds/aceflowerchild
Summary: Max spends a snow day at the dojo with his friends.
Relationships: Edward Burger/Maxwell Puckett
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was at work and it was snowing and I wanted to write a Max/Ed, so. Here you go. I have a tumblr it is [prettty-dragon](prettty-dragon.tumblr.com) I also have a pnat blog it is [accidentalshockodile](accidentalshockodile.tumblr.com) so maybe hit me up, give me a follow. Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!

When Max’s dad dropped him off at the Guerra’s dojo, the last thing he had expected was for it to start snowing. And yet, there’s no denying the cold flakes that fall from the sky, landing on Max’s nose and cheeks as he and Isabel are getting ready to spar.

“Aww! Boo you, weather gods!” Isabel yells at the sky.

Max chuckles and says, “Isaac isn’t even here.” She sticks her tongue out at him and starts heading to the porch. “Well  _I_ thought it was funny,” Max mumbles to himself, following behind.

“So, what now?” he asks, shaking the snow from his hair before stepping inside.

“Hmmmm, we could practice spec-shots. Gods know you need it.”

Max gently punches her shoulder. “Shut up. As long as I have Scrapdragon, I don’t need to practice  _nothin_ ’.  I can just whack the spec-blob at whatever I need to.” He mimes swinging a baseball bat at Izzy, who ducks and pulls Max’s arm behind his back.

“What about when you broke your arm, huh? Gotta have two hands for a bat, Maxie.”

Max winces, but shoves her further back behind him, breaking her grip on his wrist, and turns to face her in a defensive position. “Maybe  _you_ do. But I’ve been in little league for years now, and I’ve also been breaking my arms for years. I figured out how to bat one-armed when I was  _ten_ .”

Isabel makes a face at him as she circles around. “Haha, what? They let you do that?”

“I never said they  _let_ me. ‘Just because you can doesn’t mean you should’ and all that.” He keeps a close eye on her and her movements, careful to not get caught with her behind him again.

“We could play in the snow.” Ed’s suggestion came from a spot in the shadows, and while Max is distracted with trying to see them, Isabel tackles him from the side.

“Yeah! Let’s go outside! I haven’t played in the snow in years!” Isabel shouts.

Max winces again as his hearing aid plays the feedback in his ear and pushes Izzy off him. “I don’t have any of the proper gear for that. Coat, shoes, gloves, a sense of child-like wonder.”

“You can use one of my old coats! And I’m sure we have shoes and gloves that’ll fit your tiny limbs.” Isabel bounces to her feet and heads towards the coat closet. Max throws a piece of carpet lint at her and watches it float to the ground.

“Wow Max. That was almost as pathetic as your spec-shots,” Ed says, leaning forward out of the darkness with a grin.

“How would you know? You don’t even have  _eyes_ ,” Max shoots back defensively.

“I could sense it. Plus, Muse told me.”

“Ugh.”

Isabel returns ten minutes later with an armful of winter clothes that she dumps unceremoniously onto the floor. “I went ahead and got your coat and stuff too, Ed. That red coat there should fit you, Max.”

Another ten minutes sees the three of them suited up and ready to face the elements.

“This is dumb. Snow is dumb. You’re just gonna get cold and wet and probably sick,” Max says, standing by the porch with his hands in the pockets of his borrowed coat.

“You _would_ think that, you Danny Downer,” Isabel says. “You just need to lighten up, enjoy it! Chances are, we won’t have school tomorrow~” she says in a sing-songy voice.

“What, for this? There’s not even two inches yet, and you think they’re gonna cancel?”

Ed pops up next to Max suddenly. “Yeah. We don’t get snow that often here, so when we do, the schoolboard freaks out and shuts down half the county.”

“Yeah! You’ve been here how many years now, Max?” Izzy asks, already having started on a snow angel.

“Three,” Max shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s still weird. If we canceled school every time it snowed in Baxborough, we’d still be going in July to make up for it.”

Isabel sits up and turns to look at her creation. “Then you’re just too used to it!”

Max rolls his eyes and catches Ed crouching down in the snow several feet away. “What’re you doing all the way over there, Ed?”

“Making a snowball. Or trying to, anyway,” they reply, not looking up.

“Huh. Yeah, I guess it’s sticky enough for it. Hey Ed?”

“Hm?”

“What’re you trying to make a snowball for?”

“No reason,” they answer as they stand up, a lopsided, icy sphere in their hands. They begin to take aim and Max backs away.

“Ed, no. Don’t do it! Don’t you dare throw that snow-” he’s cut off as the projectile bursts in a snowy explosion against his cheek. He shakes his head furiously to clear it away from his eyes. “God dammit!”

Max dives into the snow to make his own ammunition. If it’s a war they want, a war they would get.

He mashes together three snowballs haphazardly, cradling them close to his chest until he’d be ready to release them in Ed’s direction, somehow not expecting the snowball that clocks him in the ear.

“Izzy! Betrayal!” Max falls to his knees dramatically, then onto his back, and stares up as snowflakes gently drift down from a bright gray sky. “Oh. I guess that is kinda pretty,” he says to himself.

He feels someone  _fwumpf_ in the snow next to him and hears Ed’s voice a second later. “Can you describe it?”

“Yeah, why not. I can try. So the sky is gray, but not dull. It’s almost blinding, actually, with how bright it is. And everything just has this clean feeling to it, but not sterile, like a hospital. It’s... soft.” 

Max peeks over at Ed out of the corner of his eye, and when he catches their smile, the sky isn’t the only thing he would describe as soft.

3 hours and 1.5 snowmen later, the snow was still falling, and Max is getting antsy.

“I mean. No offense, but you guys live out in the middle of _nowhere_ , and he got lost three times on the way here _without_ the snow.” Max envisions his father driving into a snowbank and getting stuck like he had once, when Max and Zoey were small. He’d wanted to get ice cream, and they’d had to call mom to come get them out.

“So just stay here,” Ed says, slurping up chicken noodle like it’s their job.

“Where? It’s not like you guys have a couch, and I don’t have any clothes here, cause it’s not like I  _expected_ to get snowed in,  _plus_ Zoey’s gonna freak out when I don’t come home-”

“You can sleep in my room. We got a futon or something around here somewhere. An’ if we don’t I’ll just make a blanket nest on the floor and you can have my bed.” Another loud slurp.

“I’m not gonna take your bed, that’s rude. If anything,  _I’ll_ sleep on the floor.”

“I like sleeping on the floor sometimes. Just call yer dad an’ we’ll take care of the rest. Right Izzy?”

Izzy looks up as she steps out of the bathroom, steam from her shower trailing out. “Right! What are we talking about?”

So Max calls his dad.

_“Heya buddy bear, how’s it shaking?”_

“Uh, yeah. Hey Dad. Since it’s still snowing, and since they canceled school, I was wondering if I could stay here tonight? That way you don’t have to drive all the way out here again.”

_“You sure? You know I can come getcha if you need me to, kiddo.”_

“Yeah, I know.” He glances over at Ed, who’s still slurping their soup while Isabel tries to get them to eat it in a non-gross way. She is losing. “I think I’m good here though. It’s not a huge change of plans or anything.”

_“Alright. I love you, Max.”_

“I love you too, dad,” he mumbles. “And make sure you tell Zoey this time, I don’t want her up my butt when I get home!”

“ _Bye Max!_ ”  His dad hangs up, and Max grumbles to himself about how the man doesn’t have a responsible bone in his body. When he looks up, he sees his two friends staring at him, matching grins on their faces.

“What?”

“Awww, you _are_ capable of love,” Isabel says, reaching out her hand. She snatches it back as Max snaps his jaw at her. “No! Bad Max. We don’t bite.”

“We’ve established this already. You get in my bubble and I snap at you. That’s how this  _goes_ , Isabel.”

She’s about to reply when there comes a loud  _sluuuurrp_ from Ed. They smack their lips and let out a satisfied sound. “Those chicken noods really hit the spot y’all.”

Isabel cocks her head at them. “Really?  _No_ , ” she says, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Hey, being the sarcastic ass is  my  thing,” Max shoots back, suppressing a smile.

“Keep that up and you won’t even have an ass to be sarcastic with! ‘Cause I’m gonna kick it! That metaphor got away from me a little, but the point still stands!” she says enthusiastically.

“You’re sitting down,” Ed points out.

“You know what-”

“Let’s watch something!” Max interrupts, not wanting to ‘know what’.

They settle on Ghost Adventures, which Max hasn’t seen since before he became a spectral, but the experience is greatly improved by the fact that he can actually see whether or not there’s ghosts. Nine times out of ten there aren’t any, but when there is, the team isn’t even facing them.

At around ten, Isabel stands up from her beanbag, stretching her arms above her head, and says, “I’m beat. Goodnight, dweeblings.”

“Night, geekaboo,” Ed fires back. Then they turn to Max and say, “We probably should vacate before grandpa gets on us about being too loud. How are you at Street Fighter?”

“Not very good, I would assume. I’ve never played.”

“Whaaat? I know what we’re doing now then. C’mon, turn that off, will ya?”

Max does as they ask and follows them upstairs to their room. They sit on the floor in front of a small television hooked up to a gaming system Max doesn’t have the name for. “Go on, pull up some carpet,” they say, patting the spot next to them.

Max watches them turn everything on and insert a game with bright orange lettering on it. He takes the controller they hand him without a word and waits patiently until they get to the character selection screen. Ed chooses random, while Max chooses the guy with the coolest looking scars.

Before they begin, Ed leans over and shows Max on their controller, “This is to jump, this is to duck, here’s your standard attack, your kicks, and your special attack, and this is how you block.”

Max watches which buttons they point out with his eyebrows drawn together. “Okay. How do you know what buttons are which?”

Ed grins and moves their thumb so Max can see. “Braille buttons, baby. Saved up my allowance for a year for it. You ready to go?”

“Yep.”

“You ready for me to totally kick your ass from here to next Tuesday?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Let’s go!”

The MC of the game counts down from three (at a volume of about five, so they can still hear it, but won’t bother anyone else) and then Max and Ed start pressing buttons like their lives depend on it. Well, their characters’ lives did, Max reasons.

They’re playing best out of three, and Ed wins the first round, but Max miraculously manages a victory in the second. By the time the third round starts, Max can feel his palms sweating, making the controller harder to hold. He and Ed are neck and neck and it looks like Ed is going to deliver the finishing blow, when-

The timer runs out.

“Oh, dude, hell yeah!” Ed yells, then immediately claps a hand over their mouth. “Whoops.”

“Why hell yeah? It timed out,” Max points out, extremely confused.

“Yeah! We get to go another round, as a tie breaker. But dude, you aren’t bad at this game at all! Izzy’s still better, but I’ve been making her play since we were kids.”

“Funny. The only actual video games I’ve played were Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater, Shred Eagle’s Fun Park, and Minecraft. I didn’t think I could be good at fighting games.”

“And yet, you are, evidently,” Ed replies, executing a truly masterful multi-roundhouse kick to Max’s character’s head.

Max shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, hitting Ed with his special move, and knocking them out. “I guess so.”

After a few more rounds of Street Fighter, in which Ed proceeds to kick Max’s ass the way they had originally promised, Ed suggests they put in a movie to wind down.

“Yeah, we can put the blankets on the floor and then put in a scary movie, those always put me right to sleep,” Ed says, tossing throws and comforters to Max, who then rearranges them into an acceptable sleeping spot.

“Scary movies? They don’t, y’know, scare you?” Max asks, grabbing the pillows from Ed’s bed and tossing them to the far end of their makeshift bed.

Ed shakes their head and moves to the closet. Max isn’t sure if they’re getting more blankets or not until they pull down a few stuffed animals, most of which are green. “Nah, they usually just take so long to get scary that I fall asleep before they are. Insidious?” They hold up the DVD case for Max to inspect.

“Yeah, why not?” Max answers, going against his better judgement. He disagrees with Ed’s statement about scary movies, but he hasn’t seen this one, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

Ed hands Max a cubical frog and sets up the movie before they crawl back into their spot on the floor, under the covers this time. It starts off slow enough, and before the plot is even set in motion, Ed is yawning and leaning over, their head brushing Max’s shoulder once, twice, before finally sticking the landing. They’re fast asleep moments later, gently snoring, and Max is so enraptured with the way they look as they breathe in and out, so focused on making sure his pounding heart doesn’t disturb them, that he only vaguely notes the jump scares when they happen, and yeah, it does take a while for the movie to even get there.

Max realizes that they shouldn’t fall asleep sitting up, and moves to lower Ed’s head onto their pillow, but they make a face and wrap their arms around him. “Okay, guess I’m coming with you,” he mutters.

New plan. He gently removes their glasses and places them on top of the TV. Then he starts laying down, Ed’s head shifting from his shoulder to his chest. Max figures that if his racing heart didn’t wake them up before, it sure would now, with their ear directly over it. But they just snuggle in deeper, tightening their grip around Max’s torso. He’s reminded of his binder, but Ed is so peaceful-looking that he can’t bear even risking waking them up to take it off.

Once he’s done shifting to be as comfortable as he’s going to get, Max clicks off his hearing aids, but just before he does, he hears Ed, voice muffled, say, “Thanks.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, this was originally just meant to be a fluffy one-shot and now I have 5k+ words and I'm still not done. Enjoy y'all.

Max wakes with a sharp pain in his side, gasping as it throbs again. He tries to put a hand on it, only to find that he can’t feel the hand he’s trying to move. Opening his eyes, he sees that Ed is still asleep on his chest, their arms wrapped around him in a death grip. 

Figuring that he wasn’t going to be able to get up until Ed was awake, and knowing he wasn’t going to be the one to wake them up, Max adjusts to ease the pain and lets his eyes wander around the room. There’s a small bit of light peeking around the dark curtain covering Ed’s window that lets him make out vague shapes of movie posters on the walls.

It only takes a few minutes before Ed starts stirring, and Max catches himself staring at the way their face scrunches up, eyebrows drawn together, and barely restrains himself from smoothing the crease over with his thumb. It isn’t until they say something that Max realizes his hearing aids are still off. 

He clicks them on and waits for the robotic voice to greet him to say, “Okay. What was that?” 

“I’m askin’ where you put my glasses. I can’t see without ‘em,” Ed answers, burying their face further into Max’s chest. 

“Okay, first of all, you can’t see _with_ your glasses. Second, it’d be a lot easier for me to _get_ your glasses if I could get up.” 

It’s like a switch has been flipped for Ed. Suddenly they’re sitting bolt upright, their face slowly turning the exact same shade of red as Campbell’s tomato soup. “Haha, whoops,” they say, trying to play it off. Max decides that he’ll ask them about it later, but for now, he grabs their glasses and presses them into their hand. 

“Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” 

Max clears his throat and pushes himself into a standing position. “I uh, gotta go to the bathroom.” Without waiting for an answer, he turns and heads to the door. When he gets there, he can see that his cheeks are just as red as Ed’s were, while also being twice as sweaty. 

He splashes some water on his face and scrubs until he can’t tell if it’s red from the blushing or the scrubbing anymore. Good. 

His next challenge is deciding whether or not to take off his binder, weighing the pros and cons of each option. On the one hand, dysphoria would rear its ugly head if he took it off. On the other, asthma would rear its ugly head if he didn’t. 

In the end, he goes to Isabel, his decision made. 

She answers the knock on her door with her eyes still closed, not that it would matter with how much hair is in her face. “What.” 

“You wouldn’t happen to have an extra sports bra or anything, would you?” Max asks, twisting his fingers together. 

Izzy squints open her eyes to see him. “Mmm. Yes.” She closes the door in his face, and he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to do. Before he figures it out, Isabel is back at the door, holding out a plain gray sports bra. “Might be too small, you have more titty than me.” 

“Trust me, if I could give it to you I would. No hesitation, no questions asked.” 

Isabel smiles slightly and nods. “It’s the biggest one I have though, so if it doesn’t fit, I’m afraid you may be SOL.” 

“Right. Thanks.” They stand in the doorway a moment longer until Max wraps his arms around Izzy for half a second and disappears down the hallway and into the bathroom once more. 

He changes quickly, pulling at the front of his hoodie in order to further obscure his torso. Looking in the mirror, he can already see a hint of black spectral energy rolling off him, but he ignores it in favor of going downstairs and doing something about the gnawing he feels in his stomach. Ed’s already there in the kitchen, sitting in front of three bowls and a pot of something on the stove. 

“Hey Max. Makin’ oatmeal, want some?” Max shrugs, and at the same time his stomach grumbles, effectively answering the question for him. Ed chuckles and says, “Guess that’s a yes?” 

Max smiles and seats himself next to them. “Guess so.” 

“Izzy awake yet?” 

“Eh. I sort of woke her up earlier, but she could have gone back to sleep by now.” 

“Holy crap, you woke Izzy up and lived to tell the tale? A brave knight you are, indeed, Sir Max.” 

“Oh haha. And what does that make you, the eccentric prince? Princess? Young monarch,” he settles on, watching Ed’s face split open as they listen to him struggle. 

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account. Please, carry on, I wanna see what else you come up with,” Ed says, with barely contained giggles disrupting their speech. 

“Your majesty. Fair ruler. Esteemed one. A _-steamed_ one. ” Seeing their smile stretch wider, he keeps going. “Overlord. Dynast. Lord _and_ lady. My liege.” 

From behind them comes, “Wow, you guys are being gayer in here than even _I_ would’ve imagined.” 

Max whips his head around and is greeted with obnoxiously ginger hair, curly instead of spiky in the absence of King Catnine, but still, undeniably, dorkish. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Isaac, king of the nerdlords. How’d you get in?” 

Isaac glances at the door behind him and gestures toward it vaguely. “Door was open. How does that work, being king of the nerdlords? Am I the lordliest nerd or the nerdiest lord? I need answers, Max. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Where’s Isabel?” 

“Where _Isn’t_ -bel?” Says Isabel, popping up behind Isaac suddenly. Max and Isaac both shout in surprise, but Ed waves jovially. 

“Hey Izzy! Oatmeal?” 

“Yeah, sure. You’re the nerdiest lord, Isaac. Why are you here for?” Isabel asks. 

“Oh, right. AHEM! I was talking to Johnny last night and he thinks that I’m right and that this snowstorm is being caused by unnatural forces,” Isaac says in one breath. He’s gearing up for another sentence, but Izzy beats him to it. 

“What kind of ‘unnatural’ are we talking here? Is it ‘manmade’ unnatural or ‘paranatural’ unnatural?” she asks, glopping oatmeal into a bowl and passing it off to Ed. “Because, as much as I’d _love_ to overthrow our capitalist society, I’m only 15. Not a whole lot I can do about that right now. But hey, you’re 16, maybe you could handle it!” She hands a bowl of oatmeal to Max and he accepts the warm ceramic gratefully. 

“The paranatural kind. Think about it! It’s been snowing for more than twelve hours, in late February, in _South C_ _arolina_. Isn’t that a little weird?” Isaac accepts his oatmeal with a quick smile. 

“Hmm. It’s a _little_ weird... and after not having a lot of snow this winter... but we’re in the mountains! It snows all the time in the mountains!” Isabel exclaims, punctuating her point with a spoon in the air. 

“We’re closer to the base of the mountains than the peak though,” Max points out. “And weren’t you guys just telling me yesterday that school usually gets cancelled when it snows down here _because_ it’s so uncommon?” 

“Wait, Isaac. You said it was _still_ snowing?” Ed asks, joining the conversation at last. “How much snow is out there?” 

“Enough that I had to climb out of the door... three feet? Might be more.” 

“I’m sorry, you had to crawl out of our house like some kind of cave being, and we’re supposed to go out there and fight whatever’s causing it? And seriously, did you use your magic therapist to get in here, or what, ‘cause if the snow is that high, there’s no way you could’ve turned the knob,” Max asks, spoon hovering between his bowl and his mouth. 

“Not necessarily... we could talk to it,” Isaac says, using his oatmeal to obscure his face. “And no, I didn’t! I _told_ you, the door was open!” 

“Mm-hm, yeah. I don’t want my eyes to become _eyes_ -cicles, thank you very much,” Max says, punctuating the sentence with a very decisive bite of oatmeal. 

“But Max,” Ed says, “This _is_ kind of our thing. ‘Pacifying rogue spirits’ and all.” 

Max lets out a long, drawn-out groan. “I hate that you’re right.” 

Isaac peeks out from behind his oatmeal. “So, we’re going?” 

Isabel- ever the morning person- answers for everyone with a chipper, “Yep! Eat up, gang!” 

* * *

After breakfast and at Izzy’s behest, Ed goes digging in their sock drawer to search for their old walkie talkies. 

“If there’s this much snow, tower signals are probably gonna be wonky,” Isaac had said. “We should have a way to communicate aside from our phones just in case.” 

Before Ed had a chance to mention the radios, Izzy had asked them, “Hey, you still have those walkie talkies, right Ed?” 

“Sure do!” 

And here they were, elbow deep in socks, feeling for anything other than fabric. They shut the drawer and spend the next five minutes feeling around their room. Ed finally finds them on one of the closet shelves. 

_One. Two. Three. Four..?_

They swipe their hand left to right but can’t find the fourth walkie. Ed reasons that they won’t need all four because they’ll more than likely split into pairs for safety. 

Pairs that have already been decided by the time Ed makes it downstairs. 

“Great! Ed, you’re going with Max. Me and Isaac are gonna take East Hill, you guys take West,” Izzy directs. “These still work?” 

Ed shrugs. “I haven’t turned ‘em on yet.” 

She sighs. “Whatever. We’ll take the extra, just in case we run into someone we know,” she says, probably indicating Isaac. “Then we might be able to cover more ground.” 

“So what do we do when we find this thing? Yell for help? Throw something at it?” Max asks from Ed’s right. 

“Oh, real funny, Max. Hey, maybe you can _snark_ it to death,” Isaac snickers. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Max. You’ll _radio_ for help and then try to keep it in your sights and not get caught until we get there.” Ed can tell by the way Izzy said _radio_ that she was gesturing with the object. The sound following is Max snatching it from her. 

“How does this thing wo-” Max is cut off by loud screeching and he lets out a pained yell, followed by something getting shoved into Ed’s hand. The screeching dies down and Max says, “You get the radio.” 

They take more time to get ready than they had yesterday, when the snow was for play. Today is different. Today means _layers_.

Half an hour later, the four of them meet back up in front of the practice dummies, packed and ready to head out into the snow-covered wilderness of Mayview. 

Isabel insists on doing a hands-in chant, and Ed can’t help but smile. That’s their sister, alright. 

“On three, Activity Club!” 

They all count together, “One, two, three, Activity Club!” 

“Great! Let’s go!” Izzy walks to the back door and tries to pull it open, but from the sound of it, it’s not budging. She manages to wrench it open after some struggling, but no one moves or speaks when she does. At least not until Max breaks the silence. 

“Or not,” he says, voice strained. 

_"Snowed in. Ha."_ Ed gets a vague sketch of the scene impressed in their mind’s eye, showing the doorway with a line more than halfway up to indicate where the wall of snow stopped. Izzy and Isaac are looking at it, dumbfounded, while Max tries not to laugh. He fails, inevitably. 

“Haha! Wow, okay. Uhh, windows?” 

“Windows would be more covered than the door, dorkus,” Isaac says. 

“Yeah, duh. I meant upstairs, genius,” Max answers without missing a beat. He starts walking to the stairs and Ed follows. Might as well start practicing the buddy system now, right? 

“Who’s got the biggest window?” Max calls back. “It’s gotta be big enough that we can crawl through.” 

“Me!” Izzy calls back from the bottom of the stairs, hopping up after them. 

“So we’re just gonna jump out the window?” Isaac asks, and Ed can hear him jogging to catch up. 

“You got a better idea?” Max asks. “Besides, judging by how covered the door is, there’s at least four feet of snow on the ground. We’ll be fine. Probably.” 

Isaac squawks and Max jumps up the rest of the stairs, headed down the hall to Izzy’s room. “This one, right?” 

“Yuh-huh!” 

They file into the bedroom one by one until they’re all a bit cozier with each other than Ed had anticipated earlier in the day. 

“Alright, now what you’re gonna wanna do is, when you land, keep your feet together, try to land on your toes, and bend your knees on impact. If you want, you can hang out the window and push off the side of the house, but either way, keep in mind how you wanna land,” Max instructs. His voice is coming from the window, which Ed thinks makes sense. “Sure, there’s snow to break the fall, but you want to reduce the impact that landing will have on your knees and pelvis as much as possible. No need to take any unnecessary risks when we’re about to fight the Abominable Snowman.” 

“I’ll show you guys and talk through the process up until I let go. Remember, on your toes, knees bent, feet together.” 

Another sketchy scene presents itself to Ed; Izzy and Isaac are on either side of them, and Max is already climbing out of the window. 

“Get your feet under you, on the windowsill- it's like that gargoyle crouch you do, Ed- and make sure you hold on tight to the sides. Make sure you know exactly where you’re going, and... jump!” As he says ‘jump’ Ed sees the sketch-Max fly out of the window, and they can’t tell if Max is actually suspended in mid-air outside, if what Muse is showing them has a lag to it, or if it’s their heart threatening to pound out of their chest that keeps him there for so long. 

As Max starts to fall, Izzy and Isaac rush over to the open window, looking down. A split-second later, there comes the crunch of someone landing in a big pile of snow, then Max’s voice from down below, saying, “See! Perfectly fine!” 

Ed lets out the breath they were holding, but they suck it right back in when Izzy announces that she’s going next. They don’t know if Muse is being kind or cruel by not showing them her trip outside, but they hear her land safely. 

Ed defers to Isaac, who gulps audibly, but makes it to the ground without incident. 

And then, it’s their turn. They stick their head out the window, not sure what it’ll help. If Muse _does_ show them, they’ll probably just chicken out, and if he doesn’t, there’s no point in trying to see anyway. 

He doesn’t. 

Ed remembers what Max was saying, trying to focus on that and not the very real possibility that they might die from this, if not end up seriously injured. 

They take in a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, trying to stay calm, stay focused, stay in the moment- 

Their hand slips. 

They flail for a moment, trying to regain their grip, but their other hand isn’t strong enough to keep holding on and 

Ed 

Is 

Falling. 

They brace themself for impact against the icy surface that is currently the ground, but it never comes. Instead, they feel two arms underneath them, accompanied by a loud “Oof!” 

It takes a second for the ringing that had started in Ed’s ears when they were sure they were gonna die to stop, but when it does they hear Max right next to them saying, “Dude, you almost hit your head. Are you okay?” 

Muse shows Ed Max’s concerned face, which does not help their racing heart at all. 

“I... am I... what?” Ed asks, their speech feeling heavy and slow. 

“Are you okay? Do you have a concussion or anything?” 

“I... no, no, I’m okay. Just... shock.” 

“Okay.” Max sounds relieved. “Good. I’m gonna put you down now, okay?” Ed nods and Max sets them down gently, their feet sinking into the snow a little. 

“Well? We goin’ or what?” Ed asks when no one says anything. 

“Yeah, I guess. Let’s go, gang,” Max says. Ed feels him link his arm with theirs, and then they’re off into the trees, Izzy’s voice fading into the distance as they go. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I realize its been forever, but given the state of the world right now can you really blame me?

They’ve been crunching along their path in relative silence for nearly an hour, Ed would estimate, when Max asks them, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Depends. Can I ask you one?” they fire back at him, knowing that it’ll keep his questions at bay.

“...Sure. An eye for an eye, yeah?”

Or not.

“Oop! Bad metaphor.” He sounds embarrassed. “Um. Right. You’ve uh, lived at the dojo for a long time, haven’t you?”

So  _that’s_ what he was getting at. They clear their throat before answering, “Yeah, you could say I’ve been there a few years.”

“I don’t mean to sound like an ass, although that is what I’m best at, generally speaking, but... why?”

Ed gives a noncommittal shrug. “My parents knew Master Guerra. They chose him to take me in.”

“Yes, but  _why_? I mean he doesn’t exactly provide a nurturing environment for a small child.”

“Yeah, well, my parents’ job wasn’t exactly  _safe_. And they  _knew_ that. And they knew that he would take people from the consortium, train them.” Ed could feel themself getting loud, angry, but they keep going. “So they asked him, in case something should happen to them, because they  _knew_ something would happen to them, if he would let me live at the dojo. Besides, who else would understand what they did, who they were,  _why_ they disappeared? Better I be with someone who  _understands_ than someone who cares about me.”

Their small rant is met with silence and Ed is suddenly embarrassed at sharing too much.

“Um. Sorry. I get to ask you a question now, right? That’s how this works?” They sniffle, more from being upset than cold, but Max had no reason to know that.

“Yeah. Right. Go ahead,” Max says, awkwardly.

Ed casts about for a question to ask, wanting to steer the topic as far away from family as they possibly can.

Their mind jumps from schools to spirits to favorite bands. Finally, they land on, “Have you ever kissed someone?” And the question escapes their lips before they have a chance to think about it, but once it does they could beat themself silly for it.

Max is similarly caught off guard, and he sputters, “Uhh, oh! Well y’know. Sort of.”

Muse gives Ed a flash of Max’s blushing face and darting eyes, which only serves to make Ed more flustered. They focus on Max’s answer instead. “Sort of? What do you mean ‘sort of’? How does that work?”

“Okay, so I did kiss someone! Once. It was super weird and we agreed it’d never happen again. So it didn’t, and then I moved.”

“Oh. Anyone else?” Why? Why were they poking at this, torturing themself like this?

Max barks out a laugh. “No. I didn’t have many friends, and even less people who were willing to get anywhere near enough to kiss me.”

Ed suddenly feels guilty. Max hardly talked about his life in Baxborough, save for a few worrisome jokes here and there, and now it makes sense to them why. They reach over and grab Max’s hand, interlocking their fingers with a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got us now.”

Max squeezes their hand back and Ed can’t help but feel a rush of pride.

Pride that is quickly replaced with fear as they catch the sound of footsteps not far off ahead.

Ed squeezes Max’s hand harder and stops in their tracks. “Max, wait. Listen.”

Max stops and they’re both silent, listening to crunch of snow and the splintering of tree branches.

“We have to-“ Ed starts, but is cut short when Max yanks his hand away and starts running in the direction of the sound.

“Max! Wait!” Ed runs forward a few steps but stops, unsure of where to go, not wanting to run into something or trip or get lost or alert the monster or-

Ed takes a deep breath and pushes the thoughts aside. No time to panic.

_Muse. Help me._

It takes a minute, a minute that Ed spends cursing Muse’s name and wishing that there had been a different green-spectral-energied tool to choose from the day Ed got Muse, maybe one with a spirit who  _actually gave a damn about their spectral partner-_

But Muse answers with a  _tsk,_ and slowly Ed can see the surrounding trees and Max’s footprints in the snow, sketched out in front of them.

_Thanks._

Muse declines to answer, instead sending Ed a wave of annoyance to remind them that just because he helps, doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

Ed ignores this and pulls out the radio to contact the others before moving on.

“Izzy? Isaac? We found it. I don’t know exactly where we are, Max ran ahead, but I should catch up in a minute.”

_ “Dammit Max! Okay, we’ll be there soon, Ed! Just hang on!_ ” The last syllable of Izzy’s reassurance is cut short by the walkie’s static. Ed continues forward, following Max’s footprints through the trees.

They’re so focused on his footprints in fact, that they almost don’t notice the real Max when they bump into him.

Max jumps with a shout and turns around to face Ed. Muse snickers and the sketch falls apart, line by line, until the canvas is blank once again.

“Ed!  _There_ you are.”

“Here  _I_ am? Max, you ran away from me and  _I could not see where you went._ Luckily, my spirit is a pretty good artist.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He’s so quiet that Ed almost can’t hear him.

They smile and bump Max’s shoulder with their own. “S’alright. Just don’t do it again. Now can you do that freaky compass thing you do and tell us where we are?”

Ed can practically hear Max’s eyes roll (they’re  _positive_ he’s rolling his eyes) before he answers, “I’m not a compass! Besides, compasses don’t  _do_ coordinates. I’m more like a GPS.”

The crashing footsteps are louder now, closer, and the wind starts to pick up, just slightly. It’s enough. “Can you do your GPS-ing a little faster?” Ed asks, their breathing teetering dangerously close to hyperventilating. “And, y’know, let Izzy know?”

Max makes a noise that Ed takes to be agreement and goes silent. Ed decides to use this moment to listen to the wind, try to make out anything that could help them. They don’t, but the wind keeps howling.

They’re snapped out of their trance by Max saying, “Okay. Let’s go.” And he starts moving forward again.

Ed panics and reaches out to grab Max. They get a fisful of fabric (maybe his hood?) and plead, “Wait, Max. Please. Buddy system.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Sorry.” Max links his arm with Ed’s and a warm feeling spreads through their chest, independent of all their layers or the panic or the steep, uphill trek in the woods. “Buddy system.”

They march together, bent forward against the freezing wind blowing back in their faces and the snow, falling faster the closer the get to the top. This only confirms that they’re heading in the right direction, at least to Ed.

They’re nearly at the top of the hill when Ed hears something back the way they came. They take a deep breath, grip their tool in their coat pocket, and wait for the right moment to strike-

“Guys! There you are!” Izzy’s voice.

Ed lets go of the paintbrush and turns around, arms outstretched. She meets their hug with a thud and begins crushing their ribcage pretty much at once.

“Whoa whoa, hey, let ‘em breathe.”

“You guys got Johnny?” Ed asks, once they can breathe again.

“Well, yeah, made sense. Fire melts snow and all that.” Isaac. Sounds like the gang’s all here.

“I can see how you’d think that,” Ed replies, smiling widely.

“Could be magic snow that won’t melt unless we ‘melt the beast’s frozen heart’ first or something,” Max chimes in sarcastically.

“Maybe someone needs to melt  _your_ frozen heart,” Johnny shoots back.

Isabel clears her throat. “Guys. Focus. We need a game plan. How are we going to take down this Abominable Snowman?”

Max and Johnny both fall silent to listen to her.  There’s no chance to formulate a plan though, because almost as if in response to his name, the Snowman starts roaring, and Ed can tell from the blast of freezing air and ice shards that the spirit is already within range.

Muse shows them Max, creeping up toward a massive figure that stands at least nine feet tall. His hands are up and his bat remains hooked to his belt, to show he means no harm.

“Hey there, huge snow-monster-thing. We don’t wanna hurt you. We just wanna know why you’re making it snow so much. It’s a little late in the year for that now, is all, and-“

Evidently uninterested, the spirit releases another bellow and swipes at Max, knocking him sideways and into a tree

“Max!” Ed screams out. They run over to him and drop to his side, cradling his head in their hand. They can’t feel any blood coming from his head, and he’s still breathing, but they can’t stop the feelings of panic and rage welling up inside them, threatening to spill out.

They drag Max further into the trees and shed a coat to put under his head. “Stay here,” they whisper, though he remains unconscious.

Sighing, Ed stands up and heads back to where the others have already begun the task of subduing the Snowman.

“Ready, Muse?”

_Tch. Are you?_

Ed pulls out their tool and advances to where their friends are fighting.

”Oh, I’m ready.”


	4. Chapter 4

Max opens his eyes slowly, blinking several times before realizing where he is.

He sits up, too fast, and his head begins throbbing where he hit it. There’s a ringing in his ears that grows louder until he can’t hear anything else. The sensation is familiar in a way that makes Max sick.

Looking around, he sees that he’s in a dense part of the woods, surrounded by trees. The rest of the activity club is several feet away, fighting back in the clearing.

He struggles to his feet and unclips his bat from his belt as he stumbles forward. His efforts are slowed even further as his vision doubles and suddenly there are more trees around him than he can count.

It takes some time, but eventually Max is standing at the edge of the clearing with his bat pointing at one of the Snowman spirits he sees in front of him. He musters all of his strength to shout, "Hey!" When all eyes are on him, he continues, unsteadily, "You leave my friends alone!"

The spirit turns to him and screeches, sending a blast of freezing air his way, and then follows it with earth-shaking steps.

Max adjusts his stance and braces himself for an attack, but just as he does, the spirit stops short, split in half, and bursts into a wisp of white smoke.

Before he can register what’s happened, Max sees Ed running over. He opens his mouth to say something, but Ed grabs his collar and pulls him into a crushing kiss, effectively cutting him off.

"Don’t you _ever_ do _anything_ like that to me again," they say, pulling away.

"Um. Okay," Max says dumbly. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he talks. "What am I not doing?"

Ed doesn’t get a chance to answer, because at that moment they hear an anguished cry coming from Isaac. Max stumbles forward and Ed catches him, slinging an arm over their shoulder.

They shuffle over to Isaac together, and Max drops to the ground beside him as he lay there, groaning.

"Isaac! Isaac are you okay?" Max asks, attempting to put a hand on his brother’s arm and landing in the snow inches away.

Isaac sits up slowly, hand at his forehead. "Why do I always get possessed by the weather spirits!"

Max breathes a sigh of relief. "I thought you were dying, dude."

“No, not dying.” Isaac looks over at Max, then suddenly he’s very close to his face, eyes darting back and forth and looking concerned. "Does your head hurt, Max?"

"Yeah. A little. Why?" The ringing in his ears is getting louder again.

When Isaac next speaks, it sounds like he’s underwater. "I think you have a concussion."

"Oh." Max’s eyelids start to get heavy. Maybe he’ll just close them for a second. He’s so tired.

He snaps them back open when everyone starts yelling over each other for him to open his eyes, don’t go to sleep, you have to keep talking.

"Someone should carry him." Max thinks it’s Isabel who suggests this.

"No," he protests. "I’m fine, see?" He pushes himself up and gets very dizzy and very nauseous _very_ quickly. He sticks out an arm to balance himself against a tree and tries to blink away the feeling. It doesn’t work.

"Yeah, I can see that," Izzy says sarcastically. "Okay, who’s carrying him home?"

"I’ll do it," Isaac says, standing up to join the rest of them.

"Not so fast, weather boy," Johnny interrupts. "You just got possessed by that snowman thing. Nothin’ against you, but I’m pretty sure none of us knows how that’s gonna go. _I’ll_ carry him."

Isaac’s face goes red _really clashes with his hair_ , Max thinks, and lets out a frustrated sigh. "Fine."

This is how, minutes later, Max finds himself looking over Johnny’s shoulder at Ed as the group makes its way back downhill into town.

While Max looks at them, a wide grin spreads across his face and he starts giggling. "Haha, you _kissed_ me."

Ed blushes and sputters out, "I didn’t- I mean, I thought- I acted on impulse okay?!"

Max giggles harder and notes that his cheeks hurt, just a bit. “I liked it. I like _you_.”

If possible, Ed’s face turns a brighter red than even this morning. As Max remembers that, he gasps and nearly makes Johnny drop him. “Is _that_ why you were so red when you woke up today?”

They smile sheepishly at him. “Guilty as charged. Eheh.”

“No, but it’s okay! I think you’re really great and I like being around you a lot.”

“I just can’t believe that the first time I kiss someone, he’s concussed! I really couldn’t have picked a worse moment if I‘d tried!”

Max reaches out his hand and ruffles Ed’s hair. They duck away and frown in his direction, but only for a second.

“You’re cute,” Max states, and he vaguely notices Johnny making gagging noises behind him. Max ignores him in favor of watching Ed sputter again.

“What! You- why would go and say something like that?”

“Well ‘cause it’s true.”

“Nuh-uh! That’s an opinion! An opinion can’t be true!”

“Well I’m of the opinion that you’re cute, and you can’t tell me otherwise!” Max sticks out his tongue at Ed and they laugh.

“Well _you’re_ ridiculous,” they say, crossing their arms.

Max gives them a toothy grin and says, “Sure am, boss.”

Isabel’s voice comes from the front of the group. “Could you two lovebirds have this conversation later? We’re almost to the dojo, and you’ll have plenty of time for all this mushy crap _after_ someone takes a look at Max’s head.”

Max rolls his eyes and immediately regrets it as his headache reminds him of its presence with a painful throb. He mutters, “Fine,” under his breath.

When they get back to the dojo, most of the snow around the doors has melted, so getting back in doesn’t pose a problem. Isabel heads to the emergency landline and Max hears her say Dr. Zarei’s name. Johnny sets him down and Max falls into a chair, knees too weak to support him.

“I’m gonna call dad, so he can maybe be here before the sun sets,” Isaac tells him, and Max gives him a thumbs up.

Ed drops into a chair next to him and holds out their hand on the table. Max takes it and gives it a gentle squeeze, and the two stay that way while Dr. Zarei comes in and pokes and prods around Max’s head.

“You’ll be fine, it’s just a slight concussion, and from what Ms. Guerra told me on the phone, you’re very lucky that that’s all it is. Ice it, get plenty of rest, and restrict your screen time and physical activity for a while.” She gives Max a small smile and pats his shoulder. “While I’m here, is anyone else seriously injured? No? Then I’ll be on my way.”

Shortly after this, Mr. Puckett knocks at the door for Max and Isaac. Isaac runs out first, telling Max, “I’ll give you a sec to say bye to your new _boo-thing_.” Max blows a raspberry after him, but the door is already closed.

“Well, you heard him,” Ed says. “Do I get a kiss, or is this a pat on the back kinda situation?”

Max chuckles and leans forward, kissing Ed on the forehead, then gently on the lips. “I’ll see you later.”

Ed smiles and touches their lips as Max walks to the door. “Yeah. Later.”

Max climbs into the backseat of his father’s car and lets Isaac do the talking as they ride back home, the sun setting behind the peak of the Western Hill, its rays bouncing off of melting snow.

* * *

Weeks later, during spring break, the Activity Club (plus the Jang and the Journalism Club) get together by the lake for a picnic.

Max is stretched out underneath a large, shady tree when he feels someone lay down next to him. Looking over tells him it’s Ed, and he looks back up, smiling.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” they answer. “What’s the sky look like today?”

“Hmm. It’s a deep blue, one that looks how I’d imagine sticking your arm into a bucket of paint feels like. And it’s mostly clear, but there’s a few fluffy clouds here and there.” He grabs one of Ed’s hands and uses it to point. “And the sun’s right above us, burning a hole in it all.”

And as Max lay there, his friends yelling in the background and his love by his side, he thinks things could not have been more perfect.


End file.
